Yearbook!
by MagicallyChallenged
Summary: Pretty self explanitory, uh this was basically mostly improv actually all of it cept the concept was improv... hope you enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

**This is for Anzafire and MadAmeSaysWhAt…. And of course to that one person who ever day inspires me that little bit more to try and achieve greatness… You mean so much to me and I've never met you… this is for you.**

She stared into his eyes, her breath ragged and full of a want only she knew of, it was a secret, her love for him, her need... the way when he looked at her with those amazing eyes of his, or sang to her with a tone that set her soul on fire was enough to make her weak at the knees but it was when the night drew in and the cold winter air seeped through the gaps between the windows that Emma truly felt the power he held over her. Lying alone in her room, the darkness surrounding her, his image imprinted in her minds eyes as she repeatedly brought herself to an edge she could never follow over... she had tried many a night, felt her hand as his own, felt her own ragged breathing turn to his warm breathy moans around her but still he release had never come... that was until tonight.

She had wondered if anyone had seen her take it, wondered if within the next couple of days it would be reported missing. She felt a tingly feeling in her stomach and wondered if it was guilt or the excitement of the situation that was causing it. She brushed her fingers lightly over the page, dancing them along his jaw line, tracing the shape of his luscious lips and secretly wishing his fingers were running through those tight curls that sat atop his head as she did every time she closed her eyes. She let one hand splay itself across his ink form, her other reaching under the covers seeking the heat she felt even through the thick winter duvet. Once she had reached the destination she desired she pushed aside the flimsy silk shorts that covered her and began to let her hand play a symphony she wished he were conducting.

She arched her back off the bed, her lips parted as she let a moan spill from her mouth, his name buried somewhere deep within her, her hands hitting the right notes in a hope of releasing it. She felt a gush of warmth hit her hand, her fingers twisting, moving to a melodious tale of a love unseen, unknown and she guessed unwanted. She had allowed herself to pretend he wanted her, closed her eyes and felt him above her, felt him lower himself, humming slightly as his mouth found her centre causing a shiver to creep up her spine and her entire body to shake to a near release. She neared this point many nights; this was a fantasy that had abolished a routine she had set in place since her early teens, it was this fantasy that had replaced the need for the once over used pink mechanism that sat in hiding at the bottom of her sock draw. It was a fantasy she had wished to come true more times than she could remember but every time she neared that amazing place, felt the stars beginning to impair her vision she managed to get a glimpse of herself from another perspective and ceased her ministrations but tonight was an exception to the rule, tonight she was blind to her own actions, tonight, there was only him and her.

As she continued letting her fingers roam, the warmth pooling between her legs now dripping onto the silk beneath her, the sweet scent filling the air as she increased her pace all the time searching for that word she knew was locked deep down. She bit down hard on her lip, blocking the expletives from leaving her mouth, as a rule she never swore, and somehow, with the rapid movement of her fluid hands, the added pressure of an extra digit being added and the intense stare of green mixing with brown that was their eyes she was nearly brought to the brink. She tasted the metallic liquid spilling down her lips, normally she would have freaked out and ran for the nearest bathroom, but at this moment, her emotions heightened to a level of intensity she could never have imagined all she could do was continue. She let her tongue dart out of her mouth and lap up the blood that was starting to roll down her chin, all the while imagining his tongue on her, one her lips, her body, her centre. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, whimpering in a mixture of need and anticipation, feeling her release imminent but yet still so far away.

She was reduced to a mixture of extended vowel sounds and clutching for purchase at the freshly changed sheets, her back arching further and further as she turned her wrist slowly and with sheer force. Feeling beads of perspiration form at her temples, soaking her collarbone and running down the flawless porcelain flesh of her upper body as she allowed herself to get lost in the abyss her fantasy had become. She panted heavily, her voice hoarse with desire as she felt the first letter of his name finally reach her tongue, the taste sweeter than anything she could have imagined. She gripped the sheets hard, her fingers draining of all colour as she tossed side to side, throwing her head back, her cherry curls sticking to her face and neck as she rode the first few waves of her climax. She pushed her hand down harder; her body reacted by jumping at the sheer unexpected force she delivered unto herself. Her eyes shooting open as her mouth moved to form a perfect O.

A blinding flash of light, her head spinning as the room began to turn like a trapped dancer in her music box, the slow timeless song that was her hum of satisfaction fastly becoming her theme. She swallowed hard, feeling her body shake furiously, all the while her hand uncontrollable continuing its work as if it didn't belong to her, as if she had lost all control long ago. She let her eyes scan his image, her focus shaky but stable enough to see his cheeky smile, the way his ambition danced in his twinkling eyes, his hair begging for her fingers to find his curls and wind them around her nimble fingers, her talented, skilled and deftly nimble fingers. She would have felt slightly embarrassed had she not been so turned on, she knew she had sides to her personality that she kept for herself, she knew that if Will had any idea of what she was doing he would probably have ran very far away from her, but she also knew that she possessed the power to create her own reality, her imagination and long unfulfilled lust for the blonde haired man much stronger than her desire to conform. So ask she called his name, her voice weak and shaky, she imagined him above her, his toned arms holding his well-built body above her, his fingers entangled in the fiery red locks of her head while his eyes stared intensely into hers. She felt his weight, more real that she had ever imagined before, felt his warm touch igniting a spark in the very depths of her as he rocked into her slowly, brining her release to its end.

She allowed herself to sink between the sheets her eyes remaining locked on his as she moved the book aside; she smiled shyly to herself and let her free hand shut him away into the dark before letting her finger rest on her lips as she mused. She had considered the effect of such a powerful tool as having his image around her for said activities and she had to admit the pros far out weighed the cons, she nodded to herself before letting the hardback fall to the floor, she leant over the mattress and pushed the book under the bed into the shadows that lurked underneath there. Sitting back up and letting her hands find her duvet she pulled the covers over her body, suddenly missing the warmth her fantasy had created. She nodded to herself thinking about the book under her bead, knowing that it would reported missing and she would probably get in trouble if they knew it was her who took it, but after the feeling she had achieved tonight, just by looking into his eyes she knew she wouldn't return the book… at least not until she had the real thing lying next to her. She closed her eyes; her long lashes fluttering lightly as she succumbed to a sleep that had plagued her for a while now. As she drifted into a peaceful slumber, across the city he lay awake, his mind running wild as he wondered her reason for taking the book. He had watched her sneaking through the library, picking up the book and leaving in a almost stealthy manner, well it would have gone unnoticed had he note been entranced by her sheer beauty and although he lay next to his pregnant wife, it wasn't her whose hands he imagined running up and down his length as he tried to relieve himself, oh no. Those hands belonged to the read head who stole his year book photo, the red head he'd slowly come to know as his best friend, the red head he wish for more and more with every passing hour. He closed his eyes and though of how relationships were always considered in terms of partner ships and of how sometimes an unrequited love could blossom, after all what was the fun in being alone right? He smiled to himself, his lips parting as he found his solace as her name left his mouth in a breathy moan.."Emma"


	2. Chapter 2

**This is the second instalment, again for the wonderfully amazing and stunningly beautiful Calleigh4ever, who encourages me to write even on days I feel like giving up. X**

It was hard to remember without visual stimulation, but there was an image etched in his head that no artist painted, no sculptor sculpted and yet she was by far more perfect that any rarity he had ever come across. Even the most amazing of writers couldn't have found the words to describe her beauty, the magnitude of her kindness and how with just the simplest and softest sounds of her southern drawl she could melt his heart and will him to want to be her all. He knew that these feeling he had started to experience were wrong, but his conflict wasn't in feeling the amazing way she made him feel, it was in the knowing that he couldn't make her feel the same way. He was married, tied to a woman he had started to erase from his memory unconsciously, every day replacing her with a model made of the rarest materials known to man.

Betraying blue eyes shifted to warm amber pools so large he could easily get lost in her stare, so easy in fact that if anyone would have walked into his small bedroom they would have gone unnoticed to the man sat in nothing but his tight black boxer shorts, one hand holding a mixture of perfect hues that made up her image and the other hand travelling the expanse of his hardened flesh that was a result of how she made him feel. This wasn't the first time he had come home early and thought of her, it wasn't the first time he had felt the need to run to his car and drive at top speed through more than his fair share of red lights just because she had brushed herself up against him accidentally. He had tried the simpler approach of trying to gain release while in the bathroom or even in his car but he couldn't unlock that sweet sense of satisfaction he felt when whispering her name while looking into her eyes.

He let his thumb brush the outline of her perfect hair, imagining how it would feel to brush his fingers through those silky locks of the most amazingly warm shade of red that he rested his head in every night in his dreams. He loved the way her innocence was painted in perfect shade of blush that rested safely on her porcelain complexion, burying itself into her cheeks and becoming her. He gripped his hand tighter and moved to a melody that echoed in his ears, every time she spoke to him it was enough to ignite a fire that only the fluid movement he had come to perfect over the past few years, could cease. He felt a lump form in his throat and he swallowed deeply, his lips dry at the thought of tasting her sweet lips, the thought of taking her in his arms and making her feel what she did to him, how she made him feel, how she was fastly becoming his everything in a world where nothing was stable.

His thoughts hadn't always been so clean, the first few times he had managed to bring himself to release he had, had to be creative. His visual stimulus was a walking target, and he had needed to make the action quick in order to remain unseen, a few nights he had stayed late at work, Tuesday nights mostly, offering to be the support teacher in her SAT prep lessons, he had sat at the back of the room watching how she walked, how her hips would swing gracefully side to side with each graceful step she took. He had almost bitten through his lip one night when she had wore a rather form fitting tight black skirt and white blouse, while sitting at a small desk at the back of the room he had found it difficult to stop himself as he slowly unzipped his jeans and reached for the part of him that ached for her. He felt the fear of her catching him spurring him on, heightening the experience as he pumped his hand up and down while holding himself firmly in his large hands. He was able to make his release imminent by keeping his eyes fixed firmly on her shape, his mind toying with the idea of him running his hands up her thighs to rest on her hips, bringing the tight fitting material up to rest above her hips as he lifted one of her lithe legs and slowly slid into her.

He imagined the soft sound of her satisfied moans as he manipulated her form to lean over a desk, her fingers gripping blindly at the oak as he moved in and out at a rapid pace. He had imagined this scenario so many times that if he closed his eyes tight enough he could swear he smelt her perfume lingering on the back of her neck as he buried himself into her. One time she accidentally dropped a pencil on the floor during one of his frantic searches for liberation, he had literally never arrived so quick as he had that night. As the sound of the wooden writing implement hitting the linoleum reverberated in his ears his gaze flew to watch her as she bent her knees and lowered herself to the floor, her nimble fingers reaching out in front of her, her skirt tightening more than he thought possible over the perfectly rounded shape of her ass. It was images like this, built up in his memory that had given him a sweet release every time he felt the slightest hint of frustration, every time he hand accidentally let his fingers brush against her perfectly silky legs at the lunch table.

It had become easy for him to detach himself from her at first; thinking of her purely in an animalistic way due to the fact that he barely knew her. It was only after he had gotten close to her, befriended her, laughed with her, danced with her, sang for her and undoubtedly fell in love with her that his ability to find that release faded. Instead of sitting at the back of the empty classroom watching her bid goodbye to the last of the students to leave and thinking about throwing her against the chalkboard and pounding into her so hard she leaves marks as she bites into his skin, He sits silently and wishes that he could figure out why she has a look on her face as if her heart is breaking as every second passes by. He thinks about walking over to her, and letting his arms wrap around her small delicate frame, holding her chest against his own and allowing their souls to touch as they sway slowly to a song they haven't written yet, and its when he finds himself wishing to be the one to bring back a smile to her perfect face that he knows this isn't going to work anymore.

The feelings remain where memories fade, and as he sits on his bed alone, he knows he's close to finding that freedom he's tried to find for the past half hour, looking at the picture in his hand and the sweet smile on her face, he smiles back. He doesn't pick up pace, there is nothing frantic about the way he moves his hand in steady pace, letting everything go as his head falls back against the wall and his eyes shut in an attempt at finding her in his minds eye. He doesn't think about her like he used to, and it scares him how his wanton needs have manifested themselves into a pure and ultimate need to be what she wants and who she wants. He no longer imagines nights where he leaves without so much as word to her, instead he thinks of holding her in his arms as she succumbs to a peaceful slumber, her head resting in the crook of his arm, her hands dancing lightly over his fast beating heart as he whispers words made perfect by the pens of poets long gone. He imagines the amazing feeling of waking to find her still there in his arms the next day as the sun rises and illuminates her perfect porcelain frame till he could swear he's no longer looking at something human but something created by a higher power, something so pure, amazing and completely his, that it takes his breath away.

Sitting on his bed, his legs stretched out before him, the cool air blowing against his exposed flesh, his eyes still locked on hers, wishing, waiting and wanting he knows this is about to come to end. He feels the gradual build up, the warm sensation of slow rocking waves in his stomach, the fire travelling through his entire body mixing with the breeze and sending a chill up his spine and as he reaches that amazing high, feels that warmth spilling over his large hands, his breath caught in his throat and his chest rising and falling rapidly he lets her name fall from his lips as his fingers loosen their hold on the image he covets so much. Her smiling face floating through the air as if carried like a feather on the lightest of winds before finally hitting the floor as her name finds its way out of his mouth, rushed, harsh and yet full of so much adoration that to a person who didn't know any better this situation would read as nothing more than a man worshipping the love of his life.

He let a breath escape him, his legs still shaking as the blood rushed around his body trying to bring him down from the ultimate high he found whilst thinking of her. Sliding off the bed he walked to bathroom, his fingers turning the dial as a gushing spray fell from the head. Stepping inside he allowed his back to rest against the tiled wall his head tilting back as the water cascaded down his well formed chest, rolling in racing rivulets over his pecs and down his toned stomach. He smiled to himself, pushing away the feeling of agonising guilt he normally forced himself to feel, after all today he deserved a little bit of happiness, he deserved to feel elated, relaxed, sated, and happier than he had ever felt in his entire life, because who shouldn't feel all of this on their birthday, especially after their wife had forgotten. As he allowed himself to succumb to the warm cleanliness his mind flitted back to thoughts of her amazing smile, little did he know how amazing it truly was, how amazing she truly was.

Across town, back in a building where faces passed her in multitudes not one of them his, she had given up on waiting for him to visit her for a quick venting session and had instead taken it upon herself to go see him. She had walked the stuffy overcrowded hallways, not flinching as her shoulder rubbed against the arms of letterman jacket wearing football players, or the bare arms and over perfumed bodies of the Cheerio's, her mind completely focused on the small, perfectly neatly wrapped package in her hands. She had thought long and hard about his present, thought about the gift, the writing on the card, the symbolism held all within that tiny package. She was aware that there was something between them, she felt it every time his hand would accidentally brush hers as they sat next to each other, felt it every time they would occasionally let their fingers intertwine, holding each others hands longingly, hoping no one would notice. So when she stepped in his room and saw it empty, her heart broke at the reality that he was probably having a celebratory lunch with his pregnant wife, and so she left the small present on the large oak desk and retreated back to her office, her heart singing a mixture of emotions with one theme in mind, him.

His fingers danced along the smooth perfectly wrapped blue paper, toying gently with the small silk ribbon tied in an expertly essential bow on top of his gift. He knew it was from her, and his heart sang, he knew that this was more than gift, what was hidden inside the blue sheets was so much more than would ever be able to thank her for, and it scared him to open it because once he did, there was no more lying, there was no more brushing this under the rug and hoping to keep it to themselves, he wanted her, wanted to be with her and as much as he knew it was going to be difficult, he had to find a way to make it possible.

He sat in his seat and let his fingers make light work of the wrapping paper, unfastening the bow with such ease and smiling as she smiled back at him. He brought his fingers up to stroke the side of her face, taking all of her in, studying the way her hair flipped to the left, how her large eyes full of a love that dared not scuffle for the surface stared right into his soul, and her felt his heart stop beating as he noticed the elegant script in the corner of the picture, 'For when you just can't get home quick enough, Love Emma x'. He felt his jeans tighten, and his breath hitch and as he looked into those perfect eyes, and knew that this was it, it was only just beginning for them his heart began to beat again. Its rhythm steady and melodic as it beat against his chest in a near perfect rhythm, near perfect because it always managed to skip a beat every time he looked at her, he reached his hand into his jeans and felt for the source of his discomfort, letting his hands wrap around his impressive length as he decided to give his present a test run. He was shocked to be interrupted a few moments later as the door to his room opened and in she stepped like a whirlwind, ready to knock him off his feet, and she probably would have had he not been sitting down already.

He paused to remove his hand from his pants but was stopped when she approached him and placed her hand on his upper arm and shook her head. 'Don't stop on my account, I just thought if the picture wasn't working anymore, you could use the real thing'. Her voice was unknowing, full of an uncertainty he wished to remove from her life, and as he reached out with his free hand and let it linger on her hips, he knew this was it for them; it was now or never and never was an awfully tough prospect to think about. He pulled her down to him, letting her perch herself upon his lap while he continued his ministrations, his eyes locked on hers as she stared at him with a darkening lust he could only have ever conjured up in his dreams and as her hand met his, in a silence that spoke far louder than their words ever could, Will decided this was by far his best birthday ever, by far the best present ever and that sometimes real life could find a way to surprise you.


	3. Chapter 3

**This is for my own personal slave driver, give me time and I will deliver I promise, just next time be gentle when you crack that whip, I know you love to challenge me, but sometimes I like to go slow. You're the best slave driver I have ever had and you know it!!!**

She had watched as he had tried, painstakingly hard, to near a release that he usually succumbed to quite easily, watched as his brow had furled, one hand white where the blood had drained due to the tight hold he had on his hardened length, the other wrapped tightly around her waist holding her in place on his lap as she watched him with eyes wide open. When he blew a breath from between lips that had moments earlier tasted the sweetness of her, and he shifted uneasy in his seat she knew he was all but ready to give up. Watching his pace slow down, and gain momentum and then falling into a pattern of back and forth she felt an urge to help him out, help bring him the sweet release he yearned for. She studied his face, the way he was biting down firmly on his bottom lip, panting slightly, his eyebrows furrowed so much that she could see the small, frustrated creases in his forehead and it reminded her that sometimes perfection was hard to achieve but together she'd help him find it. She leant her head down to attach her lips to his neck, not watching him do it, but knowing that as she placed a flurry of light kisses on the soft freshly shaven flesh below his ear, he closed his eyes tight as his hand gripped his appendage tighter.

She had often wondered what it would be like to see him like this, his strong skilled fingers wrapped expertly around himself as he moved his hand in a fluid motion, a concerto of ups and downs. She moved herself further onto his lap, her legs parting at the hip as she straddled him and encouraged his hands up to her chest, each one cupping her breast perfectly as her lips claimed his own. She rubbed herself into his need, circling her hips as she ground into him, biting down gently on his bottom lip and eliciting a groan that rose from deep within him. She felt his body shake, her own slight frame quivering above him as she let her arms wrap around his neck, her deft fingers burying themselves deep into the spray of curls that lingered at the nape of his neck. He let his fingers dance down her sides, resting over her hips for a few moments before moving to cup her ass and urge her body closer to his own. She used her arms to anchor her weight on him, lifting herself up on her knees as his fingers slipped between them and found the hem of her skirt, sneaking his hand underneath, his fingers drawn to her heat like a moth to a flame. He lifted his hand, fingers dancing up her warm folds, as his thumb found its destination and began massaging in circles, which left her helpless. Her head fell to his shoulder in complete surrender, her fiery curls cascading over his muscularly broad arms as she sank her teeth into the thick muscle that ran from his neck to his shoulder. He hissed at the feeling of her teeth piercing his skin as she began to dance her hips further into his hand urging him silently to increase the pressure that was bringing her such a good feeling. She could feel a warmth washing over her, a mind numbing tingle snaking its way up her spine as she arched her back to his feather light touch.

It was when he touched her like this that she knew there was such a thing, as perfection and she knew how he strived to achieve that in every part of his life, if there was one thing she had come to adore about Will it was his ability to gloss over anything remotely detrimental to their relationship, but not merely gloss over it, if there was a crack on the exterior, he would paint them a new surface on which to write their story because he loved her, all of her, even the part that remained in autopilot concerning germs even during their physically intimate times and she didn't know it yet but he would give his all for her, to make her his own, yeah he'd give her everything in a heart beat. He felt her fingers tighten in his curls, her head buried in his shoulder as she whimpered under his touch, his thumb still circling rhythmically as he slowly inched his fingers inside of her. She jolted a little; a small moan escaping her barely parted lips as she rode the building waves of the climax he was bringing her to just by the power of his skilled fingers. A mixture of sweet innocence and deep set lust in her amber eyes as she lifted her head sleepily from its resting place and brought her gaze to meet his own. She opened her mouth slightly panting as his fingers pushed deeper, a smile on his face as her walls tightened around his touch and she let a forceful, breathy moan escape her lips. Shakily, she brought her hands between them, finding his still hardened length and allowing her hand to wrap around him as her thumb ran over his smooth silky tip, guiding him slowly to where she needed him the most.

He was reduced to a series of guttural moans as he felt himself slide inside her, his hands finding their way under her skirt to rub her ass, kneading it between his large hands as she pushed into him, rocking back and forth in a motion she begged him to comply with. She had always been wary about having sex in such a public place as school, but with him sitting there, looking so damn frustrated and it being his birthday after all, she knew she had to do something extra special, and there they were, her long, below the knee length lemon skirt spread out wildly over his knees hiding their complete surrender and need for unity. She inched her face closer to his own, till the tips of their noses touched, her fingers running up his face and into his hair, twisting and burying themselves in his dirty blonde curls as his hands inched higher to her hips before taking a firm hold on her and pushing her onto him harder. His head flew back and hit the air, his neck almost cracking at the sheer force, his toes curling at the sensation he felt with her amazingly beautiful body above him. They rocked together, lost in each other, lost in the slow rhythmic dance they could spend a life time perfecting, he ran his hands around her lower back thumbing at the hollow just below her spine feeling he could happily stay like this forever, with perfection above him. She smiled shyly as they took the time to just stare into one another's eyes, their heartbeats synchronising and their bodies connected in a union, an action that had become instinct for them.

Will had spent many a night staring into those amber pools of wonderment, lost in complete awe of the amazingly stunning woman he called his everything, a woman his heart beat for, sang for and yearned for when it came their time to part. It was this factor of the relationship that remained unspoken about, she never dared to bring up the name of the woman he went home to every night, and he could barely remember the face of a woman he'd forgotten long ago. If this were a perfect world, after nights like such, when they were both spent from an act of lovemaking that had become their theme song, they would sleep in each other's arms, and wake the same way. However, they were both adults, they knew this wasn't possible, at least not yet, not in their situation, they both knew that once they had reached their highs, spent, relaxed and at total ease in each others arms they would try for a while to forget their impending parting. After all, who wanted to leave such ultimate perfection, but alas they knew they had to continue to keep up appearances, during school hours and in public they were simply work colleagues who happened to be friends, but during those moments they managed to steal alone, they were best friends who just so happened to be amazing lovers.

They had managed to slip into a comfortable rhythm, a pace that satisfied them both, but when Will raked his fingers over her spine he felt her twitch and her hips widen allowing him more access and he knew that he could make this better, he knew she would appreciate a little more of what he had to offer. Without warning, the swivel chair they occupied came crashing down with such force that it caused Emma to slam down hard onto Will, her head falling back and as she bit down on her lips at the sensation of him completely filling her. "Oh fuck Em…" he moaned, as his legs regained composure, steadying her delicate frame as she moved in circles above him, grinding herself onto his rock hard erection and allowing small 'mews' to escape her usually tight lips. She allowed her fingers to run through his hair arching into him as their pace increased, graduating from a sensual swaying motion to a hard rocking action that caused Will to see stars. He closed his eyes tight, so close to the release he had longed for, loving that it was the reality of her that was bringing him towards the end. He gripped at her tight ass harder, and pushed her towards him, as he reached his peak and spilled into her coinciding with release she too had reached, her perfectly manicured nails digging into the flesh of his shoulders, as she clamped her jaw down so hard, to dissuade the need to bite something. She let her eyes find his, her mouth in the most perfect 'o' he had ever saw, the two of them slowing back into a sensual rocking pace.

Normally this was the part they dreaded the most, the goodbyes that hurt more and more every time they fall from their lips stained with forbidden kisses. Will held onto her, one hand remerging from its hiding place under her skirt, reaching up and cupping her face. He wanted more than anything to whisper that he was so sorry, that he wanted nothing more than to continue this night, continue holding her in his arms, fall asleep to the soothing sound of her heart beating in time to his own, wake up the in the middle of the night to the tiniest sounds of her snoozing, watch her for a few minutes, hours, entranced by her ultimate beauty, before falling prey to a peaceful slumber and the prospect of another chance to wake to the sight of her in his arms. He knew this would never happen, and the thought of never fully having her scared him to no end, he never wanted anyone else to call her there own, she was his, oh he didn't own her, not by a long shot. He was firm believer in no person owning another, but her heart was his, she had told him and showed him, and he hoped she could see how much of his heart belonged to her, how his heart beat, when he listened real closely, beat her name in two beautiful syllables, a constant reminder of her.

He brought his lips to hers, his eyes closing as he ran his tongue over her bottom lip, urging her to let him in. She complied, opening her mouth and tasting the sweetness that lingered on his tongue from earlier hours of cookie devouring, it stayed sensual, slow, passionate and never built to anything more, for not wanting to cause even more heart ache in having to stop and part ways. As they broke apart, she lowered her gaze to the floor, slowly sliding herself off of him, standing back a step and running her hands down the flowing lemon fabric, brushing out creases that didn't exist. She did dare to catch his gaze again, as tears welled up in her eyes; she held a breath and forced them to retreat, begging them not to betray her. Slowly grasping her shaking hands in front of her, an action of shyness he found rather endearing, she nodded at the floor and opened her mouth to speak. Will closed his eyes and bit back the urge to beg her to stay, he had to fight the words on the tip of his tongue, those three special words he knew she longed to hear, but he knew right now wasn't the best time. If there was one thing he needed her to know it was how he felt, but he was already ruining her life in just allowing these trysts to continue and he wouldn't get her deeper into a mess he couldn't even begin fixing. So instead, he sat there, fingers nimbly fastening his buttons before making light work of readjusting his belt as she plucked up the courage to end the night. She blew out a small breath and for a split second he thought she was going to look him in the eye, instead she turned her entire body toward the exit and slowly walked away, as he watched her leave the faintest of sounds echoed around the room as her voice travelled back to his ears

"Happy Birthday, Will"


End file.
